Demise of Summer

The late Autumn Sun
filtered through a mackeral sky
and for the briefest moment felt
the ghost of Summer pass me by.

As my eyes travelled over
the distant purple hills
I saw gathering clouds of Winter
there, and felt its icy chills

The dry leaves of Autumn
rustled over my pebbled path
I thought I heard a wintry breeze
blow out a brittle laugh.

Then wearily as I listened
felt her freezing fingers close
around my Summer loving heart
as an eerie spectre rose.

Arose and stretched before me
like a serpents icy breath
its eyes merrily dancing
triumphant in Summer's death.